


is that you in front of me?

by thenapkinthief



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenapkinthief/pseuds/thenapkinthief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She will be happy." Post 2x08 M/M resolution. Written pre Christmas Special, so no spoilers and not canon compliant for that ep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	is that you in front of me?

**Author's Note:**

> _Just you and me,  
>  We’ll start again  
> And you can tell me all about what you did today._  
> \- “The Modern Leper” by Frightened Rabbit

Mary makes Richard wait.

The family will have at least six months of mourning for Lavinia. And if he wants a big wedding and for her to be in white he shall wait the full year. "A summer wedding," she says blithely pressing for a year's time "will be far better anyway." She insists even as her mother tries to push her towards the altar with her father agreeing more quietly. But Granny is on her side.

And when Richard tries to bully her, fear forgets to settle in her stomach as he boxes her in with his arm. She is Lady Mary Crawley and in that moment with the not wholly truthful belief that she is paying her respects to Lavinia she cocks her head upwards and feels like she did seven years ago: "I will marry you, but I will not break propriety to do so."

He backs down quickly. Her knowledge of aristocratic propriety is why is he marrying her after all.

***

Despite her self-imposed delay she is determined to be settled with Richard. Granny tries to persuade her to break it off, nominally still unsure of him and his ways. Isobel is apologetic in a way that speaks of everything that has passed. Mary is determined though to close one chapter in her life satisfactorily: she will accept Matthew's answer. And if he won't take Lavinia's words to heart, she will. _She will be happy_. Visits to Haxby Park, the idea of being away from her ever more morose parents as colder weather makes the house closer, make it seem like it may be a possibility.

She ignores that Matthew will not even look at her across the dinner table.

***

And then Bates' trial starts.

The solicitor Matthew had referred to her father comes up to Downton and everything shatters. Matthew introduces him to the family and for the first time in months he seems to feel something: annoyance. She forces herself not to feel hurt. She smiles politely at them both through her heart stopping as the solicitor tells her he must speak to her alone. She can feel Matthew's stare boring a hole through her back.

They sit in the library and she offers tea, his quick awkward refusal causing a knot of fear to form inside her heart.

"Lady Mary," the poor man starts finally as his hands tap nervously on his knees. "Papers were found in Mrs. Bates room, a contract specifically."

"Oh," and Mary has stopped even questioning the fact that her voice can remain disinterested as her world crashes down to her feet once again.

***

Happiness with Richard, with any man, is no longer a possibility. He comes up the day after the clerk is required to read the contract aloud in court. He finds her among Edith, Granny, and Mama. When she suggests the two of them leave for a moment he does not even allow her that.

He breaks the engagement harshly and quickly, anger and humiliation too obvious for any of the Crawley's liking.

She thinks perhaps she should feel some strain of sadness, at the least for herself; she will be unprotected now. But all she can feel is relief settling through out her limbs.

She smiles tightly: "Of course."

Richard is about to open his mouth when Edith rings the bell for Carson, and Sir Richard had not gotten to where he was by being stupid.

Her mother worries about repercussions while Edith says that he can hardly tarnish her reputation now. Granny points out that when it comes down to it, he will be a nouveau riche ex-suitor and she will always be the daughter of an Earl. Besides, Edith's hand is hovering over her back. Granny is giving an approximation of a smile. It's almost enough to make up for the way her mother frowns and how her father will yell.

***

When Matthew and Isobel come up for dinner that week, her shame splashed across one of Richard's newspapers, she can feel Matthew's eyes on her. She cannot bring herself to meet them.

***

The thing is though, outside of her family, it does not matter here. In London society it might, where the aristocrats cut themselves off from the changes sweeping through the world and try to cling to the past. But they have little use for that society now; Sybil's reputation is already in tatters, and when Mary hesitatingly apologises to Edith she gets a twisted smile in response: "I brought it upon us too." And society seems to be forgotten as spring melts the snow and planting begins. The world is fresh again.

***

She starts when she feels a hand on her shoulder. And from his look she would guess her reaction is comical.

She has seen Matthew since Lavinia's funeral every week for family services and dinner. They have greeted each other in the village with polite smiles for the sake of appearances. She has been left alone in a room with him despite both of their best intentions. For the first time in a year however there is no black band on his arm. For the first time he is smiling truly. Even if it is only a small shadow of a thing, her own smile is uncontrollable in response. Because he looks almost like he could be _happy_ and that is all she could wish for now.

"Carson told me you went for a walk and I have been told I need more exercise for the leg. Would you mind the company?"

And she does not think she could cry to the world how little she did not mind the company.

***

The day that was to be her wedding is warm and clear. The beginning of summer and the sky is blue and the clouds are white. The sun breaks through in soft shafts encompassing her home in its embrace. She smiles as the gentle wind breaks through her hair. She raises her arms as if she could set off and fly.

***

"Habit," Granny had wisely told the Crawley sisters once after Cora had stormed out of the parlour muttering about her being an intractable old busy body, "Is what makes a life."

And that is what her walks with Matthew become, habit. At first they stand a foot apart and other than occasional remarks about the weather, they are silent. After five weeks of him joining her every Saturday afternoon he smiles wanly and offers his arm. She wishes that her stomach would stop fluttering about madly as her fingers tentatively settle in the crook of his elbow and she broaches the subject of literature.

***

"You should have told me." He says quietly. He is leaning heavily on her, his leg tiring easily as the weather gets colder. His words resound in her head.

"I could not stand the thought of you looking at me like _that_."

"You should have had more faith in me."

"Yes, I probably should have."He places his hand on top of hers that supports him. "We were young." And the support goes both ways as they walk on.

***

She finds it impossible to sleep after dinner on Sunday night. She tries but though her eyes are closed she cannot force it to come. She sighs and turns the lights back on to wrap herself in a robe and shawl against the cool of the dying fire. She descends the stairs with a single candle to the library.

She opens the door surprised to find the light still on. She looks for her father and finds Matthew asleep with a book against his chest. His face is twisted in pain, and she knows what this is. Saw the nightmares when she sat over him when he first came back. The screams of the worst cases would carry up to her room when the hospital was still here. She crosses to his side without a thought. She brushes his hair off his forehead, "Matthew," she whispers. His agitation merely increases and she thinks her heart might be breaking anew at seeing his pain. She kisses his brow and grasps his hand. “Matthew, it's alright you're home."

His hand tightens around hers. "Mary."

"Yes Matthew, I'm here. Right here." His eyes remain closed but his face slackens in relief.

"Mary." His grip stays tight for a minute before that too relaxes as he returns to a deeper sleep. She frowns and rises, knowing if she stays for another moment she will not be able to leave him.

***

She waits for three quarters of an hour pacing between the two trees through the frost that covers the ground. When finally the time for being late becomes "not coming," she cannot even be bothered to pretend to ignore it and enter on their walk alone. Carson takes her coat with a look that reveals far too much understanding and sympathy.

"You're back early," Edith's head tilts in mockery even as her eyes are soft. Mary is really quite tired of being on good terms with her middle sister. Silence stretches between them as Mary glares. "Well it's for the best, that green never suited you, and that necklace is mine."

And Mary would hug Edith if she weren’t busy yelling at her like she was ten again and arguing over a stuffed dog.

***

"Milady, Mr. Crawley is downstairs." Anna says quietly.

Mary's back tightens. She wishes the millionth time his merely existing did not affect her so much.

"He has asked to speak to you."

She looks over at Anna, the maid is giving her a soft smile. Mary supposes there is no graceful way out of it. She sighs and asks Anna to help her change just in case Edith was right about the colour (she keeps the same necklace on).

When she enters the library she is once again captivated by the fact that he is home. She does not think it will ever not be novel and joyous.

It annoyed her at first when Matthew looked so right here. The way when he was waiting he got into the habit of taking a book down, or helping himself to tea. The entitlement her father had taught him bothered her. It stood as a needling reminder of what could not be hers by nature of her sex. When her resentment ceased she took his presence for granted. It was expected for the heir to act this way and for a time it almost promised a future. Then the war came. Each time he was back it filled her heart with relief and love and _thank you, thank you, thank you_. And so she cannot but be happy that he has returned to his normalcy here. She is glad of the easy way he leans against the frame of the window to look at the grounds. That when the door is opened for her he does not jump to attention as he would have done ten years ago. Instead he turns to look at her and nods to the footman who had allowed her entrance in easy dismissal. She is once again reminded for a painful moment that this could be their life. Then she remembers she is annoyed with him.

"Is there something I can help you with Cousin Matthew?" Her voice is sharp and the appellation of cousin draws a line in the sand.

"I merely wish to apologize for missing our walk this afternoon Mary." He is not quite apologizing, but rather placating. It is as if he is trying to talk her back down from a ledge and she cannot help the way fire begins to burn in her limbs.

"You need not apologize, my plans were unaltered." She lies with a haughty toss of her head. She thinks briefly about how her hair might move if she were to cut it and that causes a smirk to rise to her lips thinking of his disapprobation.

"Mary." He may be about to begin something but she has no idea what. He too seems to lose his point for he says nothing else. She stands still and stares him down.

He sighs finally and moves to sit on the couch. "Then I am sorry for missing it for myself. I have enjoyed walking with you and I would have again today if I were not stuck in Ripon."

She tries to cage the hope that has been forming in her heart for four months and is now threatening to fly free and break her heart, again.

"Mary." And this time it is not the beginning of a sentence it is just her name. The middle of it dragged in such a way that she is reminded of a child asking for a toy back. She frowns slightly but moves to sit in the chair opposite him. Her father finds them later side by side on the couch laughing and arguing about whether the discomfort of having Branson and Granny next to each other for Christmas dinner was worth the humour. Matthew capitulates when Mary says she will need to sit next to him for proper commentary purposes.

***

Though Granny's lack of restraint, and Branson's rather surprising exercise of it, cause awkwardness for most of the dinner party Mary and Matthew pass it amused and intimate. Edith's pursed lips convey discomfort that is belied whenever she catches Mary’s glance. Edith's eyebrow rises minutely, her eyes sparkling with humour as Mary’s lips twitch upwards in response.

"I am glad you and Edith get along so well now." Matthew murmurs quietly.

Mary smiles and looks straight ahead. "I have no idea what you mean."

He rolls his eyes and they are both distracted when Granny's voice rises even louder as the subject of the House of Lords is brought up.

Mary thinks it is the best Christmas they have had in years.

***

The Saturday after the New Year she spies him from the window and can tell from a distance that they should not walk today. His leg is getting better but today he leans too heavily on the can he still needs. She tells Anna she shall not need her coat or muff today.

When she greets him downstairs ill prepared he is surprised. She smiles and pleads fatigue but instructs him to join her in the library for tea. He smiles at her gratefully. "My stick," he says quietly as he moves to walk down the hall with her. As she cheekily offers her his arm in a role reversal she thinks she understands how Sybil could desire to be a nurse.

***

"I was wrong you know." He muses idly after spring has come. Warm enough now that he has decided to dismiss his jacket to spread it out so she will deign to sit on the grass next to him.

She smiles. "That does not surprise me."

"It is not our fault Lavinia died."

The smile is wiped from her face and she stares at him, but he is not looking at her. Instead he leans back into the grass and stares at the sky. "I was a self-indulgent prig that day, and for many days after."

She sighs and lets her head fall back as she rests back on her hands to watch the same clouds he is. "I think you were allowed Matthew."

"I hurt you, nothing should allow me to do that."

"I love you Matthew." She is surprised her voice is even. She is surprised her voice is heard at all. She does not mean to speak, but staring heavenwards she cannot quite stop. "That is what allows your decisions to hurt me. And never ever apologize for that. I would not stop loving you for anything."

There is silence from behind her and she is glad she cannot see his face. She is taken off guard however when one of her arms that supports her from falling down into the grass and ruining her blouse is pulled at gently. She finds she cannot mind when her back hits the cool ground and her hand is clasped in his warm one.

***

It starts innocently, as it always does with them; a conversation after dinner, a dance, it has always started innocently. And one day he holds the light jacket open for her and brushes his lips against her cheek thoughtlessly when she turns her head to smile in thanks. Before she can think to stop herself she has turned around and planted her mouth quite fully against his. Her jacket uncomfortably still trapping her upper arms as she had not even given him time to finish that job. Her hands that are incapable of reaching for his neck reach for his waist, his hips, pulling him close. He pulls her face close and wraps an arm around her shoulders pressing her against him just as firmly as she pulls him forward. His mouth opens easily when her tongue greets his lips in steps neither of them could ever forget. They break away only when they hear a door closing down the hall. And for a second she thinks it is all ruined and then he smiles small and tentative and she returns it. She hears footsteps coming closer, giggling she pulls him out the door. Like children, hand in hand they greet the bright sun of summer.


End file.
